


Omega or Solider?

by animated_freak



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, mul
Genre: Alpha Eren Yeager, Alpha Erwin Smith, Alpha Mike Zacharias, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Farlan, Beta Hange Zoë, Beta Isabel, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Female Hange Zoë, M/M, Omega Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Omegaverse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Top Eren Yeager, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2020-10-10 23:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20536607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animated_freak/pseuds/animated_freak
Summary: Mulan Ereri crossover, omegaverse style





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU occurred to me whilst I was babysitting for my neighbor and watching Mulan, not much more I can say!
> 
> betas: DrippingInInk, Aexhaling
> 
> Disclaimer: This fic is my first, so any suggestions or tips are welcomed!

It was a regular patrol night. Quiet and cloudless, the only sounds to be heard was his own footsteps gently tapping along the stone and the wind gently rustling the tree branches; a falcon calls in the night.

It was a regular patrol night... Until it wasn’t.

A “We’re under attack!” echoes from the darkness, but the sound doesn’t go far, for the throat it emitted from is slit into silence. However, it did reach one guard’s ears. Said guard rushes to the lookout to light the fire. Several grappling hooks appeared near the ladder and the guard’s heart begins pumping rapidly faster.

_I’m going to die_, he thinks. Nonetheless, he runs past the hooks, hoping he won’t be caught by whoever is utilizing them. The hooks tighten as the climbers near the top. The guard reaches the ladder and climbs hastily, slipping and struggling from the anxiety. He hears a malicious grunt and a sword unsheathing behind him, right before he feels a searing pain in his right calf. He cries out in pain, _his first battle wound_ he thinks childishly, and pushes on. By sheer will power (but mostly upper body strength) he reaches the top and grabs for the torch, trying to ignore the intense throb of his right leg.

As he turns around to light the signal, he is met by a large figure with terrifyingly bright yellow eyes. He can't see this man’s face, but the scent radiating off him is clearer than day. He is an alpha, a strong and very powerful one at that, but there is something off; something foreign laced with his scent.

“Huns,” the guard breathes out in fear. The Huns are a tribe of sorts that live to the north of China; however, they are—were, not thought of as a major threat. Because they were formed by solidary alphas accidentally coming together, they are completely savage. They constantly fight for dominance over the tribe, mauling each other for leadership. It is in the alpha’s nature, which is why they were never considered as an enemy. It’s clear now that this alpha, whatever, whoever he is, was able to gain control over the savage tribe. And their numbers grew.

The guard quickly throws the torch into the signal, the alcohol quickly igniting. Another look-out in the distance lights its signal as well, and a wave of false hope washed over the guard.

“Now all of China knows you’re here,” the guard says, mustering up every bit of courage behind it. The throbbing of his right leg is unbearable now, and he’s finding it difficult to stand his ground.

“Perfect,” the alpha growls in response with a sickening smile, sharp canines on display; shaper than they should be. The guard couldn’t help but stumble back at the voice, falling when his right leg didn’t support his weight. The last thing he sees is a jagged sword inches away from his face, a glimmer of blonde hair, and those horrifying yellow eyes.

“Your Majesty!” a voice booms throughout the throne room as a very anxious and hyperventilating beta runs through it. “We’re under attack, the Huns, they—they broke through our northern border!” the beta falls to his knees at the Empress’s feet. “They killed almost all… all of the guards on top of the wall, they’ve invaded!” The Empress’s eyes widen and the council members next to her audibly gasp and start murmuring how_ that’s just impossible._

The General enters the room. “It’s true, Empress Reiss,” he says as he bows in front of the Empress. “I will command my legions to set up a defense around your palace immediately.” The Empress shakes her head and holds up her hand.

“No, absolutely not. You will go and defeat the Huns where they stand before they can destroy any more families and villages.” The Empress looks to the councilman on her left. “Send out conscription notices throughout all the providences. Call up as many reserves and new recruits as possible!”

“Forgive me, your excellency,” the General starts as he removes his helmet. “But I believe my troops can stop him.”

“I have no doubt in your troop’s capability, General,” the Empress states. “However, one soldier may be the difference between victory and defeat. If someone can control that raw alpha power and wield it to their will, then I do not want to take _any_ chances.” The General nodded his head in response.

“Do we know who is leading them?” the Empress asks.

“No,” the General says. “We only know that he is an enormously powerful alpha with piercing yellow eyes. A few survivors say he might have blond hair, but other than that, we know nothing of who this alpha is or how he is leading them.” The Empress emits a curt, frustrated sign in response.

“Go then, prepare my armies for battle.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the General bows in departure and puts his helmet back on, turning on his heel and walking out of the throne room.

“Good luck, General Jaeger.”

—

Livian looks up from the scroll on his bed and copies the notes down onto his pale forearm, careful not to smudge the ink. He is tired, the training leading up to the matchmaker event has exhausted his entire being to the very core.

“An omega is… quiet,” he mumbles. “An omega is also graceful… polite…” He takes a bite from his morning rice. “Delicate, refined… poised…” he takes one last look down at his paper to write down the final note. “… and always on time.” He pauses. His eyes widen. “Shit!” he curses to himself as he rushes out from under his covers.

Livian scrambles to one end of the house to the other, grabbing a bag of chicken feed and a pot of tea on the way. He runs out to the temple, emptying the chicken feed messily onto the ground as he runs. As he reaches the temple, he almost trips on the stairs, nearly spilling the pot of tea onto himself.

“It won’t do any good if you spill my morning medicine,” a teasing voice echoes from the temple as his mom appears with a gentle smile on her face. Her long silvery black hair waves softly in the wind, along with her long morning robes. Even with her walking cane, her stance is very powerful; everything about her radiates “experienced veteran alpha.”

“Sorry mama,” he starts, “I’m a bit pressed for time.”

“I was about to say, aren’t you supposed to be in the village by now?” she says, the teasing smile falling from her lips as she quirks her eyebrow up. Livian shrinks back just a little and grimace.

“I know how important this is,” he bows his head in respect. “I know that it is my duty as an omega to uphold the family honor through marriage,” he looks back up at his mother. “However, I can’t let you go this morning, no matter how important, without your tea.” His mother softens her gaze.

“I know how much you care about me, but you must get going. The matchmaker is not a patient woman, you know!” Livian nods in response, quickly walking up the rest of the steps and handing the teapot to his mother. As he grabs for the teacup, his hand reaches an empty pocket.

“Shi-oot!” he mentally chastises himself for almost cursing out loud in front of his mom. “I forgot your teacup!” which he may not or may have forgotten on purpose. He hurries back into the kitchen and grabs two cups, knowing that with his luck, one will probably break.

—

“Luna!” Livian shouts at the barn as he quickly dusted off his robes. His horse popped her head over the corral and perked her ears when she saw Livian approaching her. “Hello, pretty girl,” he says to her quietly as he guides her out of her stall, catching his breath. She was already tacked up in her saddle, the grooms knew he was going out with her today. He gently pats her neck as he slides the bridle onto her face.

“We’re late,” he says simply as he hopped up onto her back, with the aid of a _large_ step stool. As he rides out of his family estate and into town, he couldn’t help but start feeling anxiety and doubt crawl into his mind. He’s never felt quite like a true omega. Frankly, he’s never met another ‘male’ omega so he can’t blame this uncertainty on his gender. The female, the proper omegas as they are called, all seem very obedient and keen to do whatever is asked for them. They seem comfortable in their own skin; like they know who they are, what they’re supposed to be, how to get there, and know when it’s going to happen. Livian has never felt any type of certainty that strongly. He wonders, a bit depressingly if he ever will.

“I don’t want to just be like any other omega,” he mumbles to himself, a bit in a haze. He bites his lip as he tries to focus on the road ahead, willing his thoughts to stray away from those dark and deep places where it has no right being.

“But I can’t be myself either.” Livian, shut up. _You’ll be fine_ he tells himself. _This meeting with the matchmaker will be okay, how hard can it be to really mess it up? _ He lets out a breath, grateful for the wind whipping at his cheeks. Livian sighed, knowing that with this life, he may never be happy. But his happiness doesn’t matter in the end, he decides firmly. His family name comes first. If he is the one to fail the family name, then it is he who will pay for eternity. The ancestors would not take kindly to the devastation of the name they worked so hard to build up.

Livian shook his head one last time, willing these thoughts to vanish into nothingness as he enters the village, where his Grandma was waiting. He slowed Luna down as he approached his elder, an apologetic smile masking his inner turmoil.

“Sorry, Grandma,” he says sheepishly as he dismounts Luna and hands her reins to one of Grandma’s “helping hands” as she likes to call them. “I came as quickly as I could… under certain circumstances.”

“Ah Livian, my child, you are just in time,” she laughed and paused. “For a cold bath” she finishes, but with a comedic stoic expression. Livian laughs at the sight, relaxing. His Grandma is always very easy going and understanding.

“Come now,” she waves at him to follow her, and he did so into the salon. “Prepare yourself, Livian.” Before he could ask, one of the woman workers pulled him behind a changing curtain.

“Strip, love,” she said to him as she was already untying the ribbon around his small waist. Livian, though feeling a bit uncomfortable with her presence, followed her lead and started to disrobe. He grimaces at how dusty and dirty he suddenly felt, now having a clearer mindset. He couldn’t suppress a shiver that ran through his body, even though it was moderately warm inside the salon. He hesitates a moment, looking back to see if the woman was still behind him. She raises her eyebrow and tips her chin at him.

“If you were here on time you would have the gift of modesty. We do not currently have such grace. Off it goes.” She waves her hand at him.

“Fair enough,” Livian let the robes pool at his feet, still covering his groin with a piece of the robe from the floor, feeling very subconscious of his now very naked body in front of this woman stranger. She smelled dully of beta, and even though betas were not normally attracted to omegas, he still felt his nerves on edge.

“Come now, enough of this timidity, I’m bonded for heaven’s sake, we all are.” She brushes her hair away from one side of her neck, revealing a bond mark. Livian lets a breath escape his chest, one that he did not know he was clinging on to.

“Into the bath you go.” She pointed to the tub that was filled with sudsy water. Livian nodded. He walked towards the tub with eagerness, one to be thoroughly clean and rid his body of any dirt and grime. However, he failed to account that the water would probably be freezing at this point. As he climbed in, he almost jumped back at its temperature.

“Why is it so cold?” he asked to no one in particular.

“You can handle it!” he hears a raspy voice from none other than his Grandma behind him, as simultaneously hands push at his back and he topples into the cold water. He resurfaces almost immediately, turning to glare at his grandmother.

“Really?” he asks. She simply shrugs innocently.

A different woman from the one in the dressing room approached him and started rubbing the soap into his hair, and it felt so nice that Livian’s retort to his Grandma died in his throat. He must physically restrain himself from making a content sound, pinching his forearm under the water. He looks to his Grandma and she looks from him to another wall. He follows her gaze and sees the dress he is going to be wearing to the match maker’s ceremony. He sighs and leans back against the tub, trying to concentrate on the now rougher movements of the woman washing his hair. The dress was flowy and… pink. He never minded the color, but he didn’t exactly love it either. It has a light, see-through collar with a bright pink torso and long sleeves, with a darker midsection. It also has a red half skirt design with the rest of the dress light pink. It looks like something a 6-year-old girl would wear. He knows he has a shorter stature than most, even by omegan standards, but the dress seems almost impractical with how long every limb was designed.

“Up,” commands the lady behind him. He flushes a little at the words, not realizing he was so lost in thought. As he scrambles out of the cold water, two towels are thrown into his face by his Grandma.

“Dry quickly!” she encourages with a smile. He nods and begins to vigorously run the towel along his limbs, careful to not showcase his crotch, avoiding the ink on his arm as well. After he wraps one towel around his waist, he couldn’t even begin to dry his hair before he is pulled aside by his Grandma towards the changing curtain.

“Sit,” she orders and pushes Livian down by his shoulders. For being shorter than he even is, she is still quite strong. His Grandma and another hairdresser start to fan at and rub his hair with the smaller towel. They go at it for a few minutes before they start to brush it, without care for his scalp.

“Ow,” he mumbles, knowing that they’re rushing because he was late and that it is his own damn fault. They pull and tug at his long hair, ripping out the knots and combing them over and over. Soon, his hair was mostly dry and combed out. The hairdresser starts styling and pulling his hair up into a traditional bun on top of his head, tying it with a red ribbon. His Grandma steps away for a moment as the hairdresser finishes up, and she returns with a small box in her hands.

“This,” she started, opening the lid to reveal a very expensive and antique-looking flower clip. She looks up and Livian could tell her next words would be spoken with sincerity and love. “Has been in the family for over seven generations, it is my pleasure to bestow it upon you, my precious Livian. You truly are one of the most amazing omegas I have ever met.” Livian felt himself blushing at the compliment, for his Grandma was never one to be serious. He bows his head and feels the clip glide into place by the ribbon.

“Thank you, Grandma,” Livian said, an unnatural smile lighting up his features. She pats his cheek lovingly. Then she grabs his hands and stands him up, leading him over to the makeup area.

Deep down, even though he cringed a little from it, he loved the attention he was receiving. Omegas are supposed to be virgin in every aspect of their life until marriage, only to really be comforted by other omegas. However, Livian doesn’t know any other omegas because he is male. Male omegas are supposed to be abominations; mistakes made by nature. Males were supposed to be strong, like alphas and betas. Females were supposed to be the more nurturing and caring ones, like betas and omegas. Very rarely are females’ alphas, but when they are, they must prove their strength. Once they accomplish that, they are looked up to and admired. Whereas when a male is an omega, they are looked down upon and sneered at and very rarely does that change. Livian never feels unloved in his home, simply out of place. He just hasn’t discovered who he is yet.

It’s not his fault he is an omega, nor his parent’s either. The gods and the ancestors are the ones who are believed to assign orientations. Livian only half believes that though.

As he sits down in hopefully the last chair, he doesn’t have the chance to look at himself in the mirror or look at the colors they are about to plaster onto his face before he is told to shut his eyes. He does so and immediately feels brushes along his face. At least whatever they are putting on his skin doesn’t itch or smell. The large brush runs all along the shape of his face and a little down onto his neck. He is given a small break where he almost peaks a look in the mirror, but another brush starts stroking along his eyelids. Simultaneously, a wet tip runs along the outline of his lips and he mentally rolls his eyes; he’s never been one for lipstick. A few minutes go by and slowly the number of brushes on his face declines, leaving only one circling his cheeks.

“Can I open now?” he asks

“Not quite,” his Grandma replies. He then feels a small wet tip run along the base of his eyelid. He is even more anxious to see what his face looks like; he’s never worn eyeliner before.

“Okay, now you can see.”

He opens his eyes and is a little shocked when he sees his reflection. His normally pale face is _white,_ and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about it. He has a very dark shade of eyeshadow on his eyelids, topped off with very thick eyeliner that ends with a winged tip on both eyes. His cheeks are rosy red with a matching lip color, one that he has never seen on anyone. He almost blurts out ‘Really? This is attractive to some people?’ But he doesn’t. These women all worked very hard in a short amount of time to make him presentable and ready for the matchmaker ceremony, so instead he says:

“Wow,” in a very shocked tone, because, well, he is. It seems to appease his Grandma though. She grins and claps her hands together, almost bouncing on her feet.

“Perfect! Now, on that dress goes!” He stood up this time without having anyone guiding him. They’re starting to make him feel like he’s senile and unable to do anything for himself, even though he knows they mean well. He grabs the dress and takes it behind the dressing curtain, hesitating before putting it on. He really doesn’t want to. But he must.

It’s his duty to uphold the family honor.

As he pulls the dress on, he tries to clear his mind of all doubts. But alas, he fails. The women come back to fiddle and fit the dress to him, pulling the midsection ribbon a little too tight and he squeaks. They finish nitpicking at him and send him outside, where his Grandma is waiting.

“Ah, you look so gorgeous!” she exclaims hugs him tight. “Now hurry, here’s your parasol,” she hands him a blue umbrella looking thing; he recognizes it as something the older women use while outside.

“Run along now, follow those girls walking down the street and do what they do, yes?” He nods in response and then turns towards the building, bowing to the ladies at the door.

“Thank you all for your hard work, my family really appreciates it.”

As he hurries to catch up behind the other omegas that are also awaiting their meeting with the matchmaker, he can’t help but feel that this is going to go terribly wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with the matchmaker. We all know how this goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay, a lot more people saw this fic than I originally anticipated, I'm glad though!! I crave the emails that inform me of comments and kudos! Especially for a new author, it's really inspiring and helpful to keep me motivated. 
> 
> Also, college decided that it was going to kick my ass, so I didn't have this uploaded as soon as I would have liked. I hope you enjoy this new chapter! I added some scenes that weren't in the movie.
> 
> No betas this chapter so if you see any mistakes please tell me!
> 
> Enjoy!! ༼ つ ◕u◕ ༽つ

As Livian catches up behind the girls walking, he lets out shaky breaths to calm his nerves. A piece of shorter hair from his bangs falls onto his forehead, no matter how many times he tries to slick it back, so he just lets it be. It’ll separate him from the other omegas if him being male isn’t enough of an indicator.

He pops his head around to see how the other girls were holding their Paracel and try to mimic them, almost tripping over his dress in the process. It’s just so damn long. As they neared the matchmaker’s building, the crowds start to thicken. More and more people suddenly appear on either side of him, which do nothing to aid his nerves. He doesn’t like to be looked at; it usually means they’re judging him for existing. However, these people may not recognize him with what is caked onto his face. He tries to stand a little taller, at least acting like he knew what the hell he was supposed to be doing. 'Oh, ancestors, please guide me,' he prays.

The girls started to fan out around the front steps, Livian ending in the middle. The others opened their parcels and Livian followed suit, dipping down into an elegant crouch as the others did as well. The matchmaker bursts through the front door and Livian trembled in his chest. For an omega, ones that are supposed to be kind and nurturing, she looks quite menacing. She is a larger woman with obscene makeup. 'No matter how much you plaster on that old face, it isn’t going to get prettier,' Livian thinks bitterly.

“Ackan, Livian,” she announces loudly. Crap.

“Yes?” he asks, and an immediate frown appears on the so-called woman's face.

“Speaking without permission,” she proclaims as she writes down onto her paper, turning around toward the entrance.

“Shit,” he breathes to his teeth, so quiet he almost didn’t even hear himself say it.

“What was that?” she asks, even though she wasn’t facing him.

“Huh? Nothing,” he says quickly. She ‘hmpfs’ in response and waving her hand for him to follow her. He does so, leaving his Paracel on the ground. Quickly running up the steps, making sure he doesn’t trip on his dress this time. They enter a large room, one with a low table and pillows for seats. She stops before they reach the furniture.

“So,” she begins without turning around. “You’re a male omega,” she says, with no question in her voice.

“Yes,” Livian responds. She turns around with a clear disapproving look on her face. Livian fought down the defensive words in his throat.

“That’s already an issue then,” she sneers at him for a second then neutralizes her face. Well, as much as she could, she looks to have been born with a frown. “Recite the final admonition,” she commands.  
Livian nods and opens his fan, slightly covering his mouth. “Fulfill your duties calmly and…” he sneaks a peek down at his forearm. “Respectfully. Reflect before you cat—act,” he stumbles, pursing his lips together in frustration as the matchmaker slowly circles around him before he continues.

“This shall bring you honor and glory,” he finishes, more rushed than he’d rather, but finished, nonetheless. The matchmaker snatches his arm and for a moment his heart stops, thinking he’s been caught, but she only rips the fan out of his hands, inspecting it. Before today, he almost did add notes onto the fan, but forgot. Suppose that saves him now. The matchmaker tosses the fan over her shoulder and tugs him along to the table. Livian starts to feel a little sick when he feels the heat from her palm melt the ink on his arm.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Now, in order to impress your in-laws, and believe me, male omega, you will have to,” she spits out his label as if it was a burnt grain of rice as she releases his arm and goes to sit across from him at the other end of the table. Livian caught a glimpse of her palm and his heart sunk like lead. “You must present a sense of dignity and refinedness,” as she says this, she rubs from the side of her nose to the end of her cheek and down her jawline. Livian, no matter how horrified this makes him feel, stifles a giggle. She plops herself down onto the pillow and Livian followed suit across from her.

“So, pour the tea,” she says and Livian stalls a moment too late because he gets a quick glare from her. At least she looks less threatening like this. He grabs the teapot with some struggle because of his sleeves and tries to focus on making the tea into the cup. He does this every morning; how hard can it be?

Apparently, it is beyond difficult when you have sleeves that cover your hands and drag all the way down onto the table. Livian furrows his brows as he tries to keep a grip on the piece of china.

“You must also be poised,” she says harshly, and Livian feels that this is a direct jab at his posture right now. There’s only so much he can do, pour the tea without breaking the damn thing or sit up straight. He finishes pouring the tea and sits back on his heels. As the matchmaker grabs for the cup, she seems distracted by her apparent fierce hatred of him that she didn’t even realize as a large bug leap into the cup.

“Um, there’s—” he starts, only to be interrupted.

“And silent!” she yells at him, her eyes never once dipping down towards the cup. Livian shut his mouth and purses his lips together. The words 'do not speak without permission' dance around in his head. Before he could decide on whether to intervene and take the cup or not, she already has it raised to her lips and taking sips. Then almost immediately starts to hack, slamming the cup down onto the table and throwing a hand up to her throat.

“Are you,” she coughs, punching her own chest. “Are you—you demon…huelch! Are you trying to—to poison me?” she accuses, hair falling into her face as she spits on the floor next to her. Livian huffs.

“No. There was a bug in your drink.”

“A bug? Then why didn’t you take it out and warn me?!” she looks back up at him with angry teary welting from her eyes from struggling to breathe.

“I tried, but you said I couldn’t speak without permission,” Livian states simply.

“Why you—!” the matchmaker growls as she attempts to get up, however, she fails to calculate how close she is to the furnace, and her big foot knocks it over as she scrambles. The hot coals tip over onto the pillow and rug that were next to her, and both start to catch fire. She also lost her balance and fell back into her pillow. 'That wouldn’t happen if you weren’t fat,' Livian thinks before he could stop himself. Her dress caught ablaze as well, and she starts screaming hysterically. Livian gasps and scrambles with his goddamned sleeves to get the teapot into his hands to try and at least put the fire on her dress out.

“Put it out! Put it out!” she yells at him, shoving her ass into his face. He grimaces in disgust, yet throws the liquid at her dress, hoping it’s enough. The fire on the pillows is still going. The sizzle of the fire going out from her dress rang throughout his ears and he sighed in relief that her unfortunate death would not be on his head.

Before she could yell at him, he rushes up to his feet, almost falling his on face because of the stupid long dress, and darts to the nearest display of flowers. He rips the flowers out and tosses whatever water is in the vase down onto the flaming rug and pillow. After a moment it was eerily calm and quiet. The matchmaker was still on her hands and knees, her head hanging low. Livian furrows his brows together and looks around for a cloth to give her. Coming up with nothing, he decides screw it, and tears a small piece of his dress. It’s thin and flimsy but it’s better than nothing. He tentatively walks over and kneels in front of her, a little far away in case she decides to explode on him again.

“Here,” he mumbles weakly, handing her the piece of cloth. She snatches it from him viciously and he startles, jumping back a bit.

“Get out,” she said in a low tone. Livian scurries up to his feet and bows slightly before bolting out of the room. He barely made it outside before she bursts through the front door, knocking him over and he falls down the steps into the dirt, landing on his left arm. His hair loosens in the bun and falls over his face, half of his makeup ruined by the dirt.

“You are a disgrace!” she screams at him and throws the teapot at his head, and it would have hit him if he didn’t duck his head immediately, shielding his face with his right arm. It crashed and broke into sharp shards “You may look like an omegan bride, but you will never bring your family honor!” she fumes at him, dark makeup streaming down her face from her furious tears and remnants of the tea. Livian’s eyes widen and his eyebrows knit together, his mouth open slightly. His heart shrivels into his chest and plunges into his stomach, his limbs feel weak and breathing suddenly becomes near impossible. If she throws something at him again, he guarantees he would not be able to block it. If he hadn’t already been thrown on the ground, his legs would have given out right there. If his face wasn’t frozen from shock, tears would be streaming down it. He is horrified. Those were words that he never wanted to hear.

“Get that vile creature out of my sight!” she seethes, turning on her heel and stomping back into the wrecked room. Livian isn’t breathing, he couldn’t. His arm didn’t feel right in its socket and dust was getting into his eyes, and yet he couldn’t move, not even to blink. He couldn’t hear anything, everything was silent. Not a person mumbled a word.

“Livian,” his grandma whispers gently as she comes into his field of vision. “Livian sweetheart,” she tries again. “Livian can you hear me? Livian, sweetie, take a breath.”

He tries. He tries to breathe, but the first gulp of air he brought into his lung was shoved out again by a bitter and vicious choke. Before he could attempt to regain his lost breath, a sob wrecks his voice.  
“Oh honey,” she sits him up into her embrace as he cradles his own arm. He lets out a violent cry, one that aches deep within his chest. With his wrong arm still resting in his lap, he clutches his grandma’s robes and burrows his face deeper into her shoulder. He sobs and chokes and cries until there aren’t any tears left to fall. He is still choking on his dry sobs by the time he opens his eyes and struggles to calm down. His chest twitches and shakes and his arm still hurts. Eventually, the noises emitting from his throat cease, and his chest shakes less vigorously. He pulls back weakly, and his grandma let him. He opens his mouth to say something, only he doesn’t know what.

“No,” his grandma says firmly. “Do not say anything right now,” she grabs a strand of his hair that is hanging in his face and tucks it behind his ear. “Before anything else happens, I am going to draw you a bath, a warm one this time, and then I’ll have some rice made up for you,” Livian sniffs and nods his head.

“Good. Come on, let's stand you up,” she says as she holds out her hands to him and tugs him to his feet as she stands up as well. A shooting pain goes through his arm, but he tries to hide it, wrapping his arms around his waist once he steadies himself. It’s only then did he notice that practically the entire village is looking at him. Somehow, this makes him feel even more mortified than before. How long has he been sitting and sobbing in the dirt?

“Move along!” his grandma yells out to the people. “Nothing to see here! Don’t you people have work to do?” The world around them starts to shift into motion again, people resuming previous conversations and going about their daily lives. His grandma starts to hobble quickly to one of her handy aids, snatching her cane from them. Levi quickly snaps out of his haze and follows her, feeling his face heat up hotter than the furnace that caused this whole fiasco. 

“Isabel is on duty today. I’ll have her meet you in the bathing room,” his grandma says, obviously trying to change the subject. Livian nods, sniffing a bit.

“Come on, we’ll both go in the cart that brought me here; don’t want you riding by yourself now.” His grandma leads him to a wooden cart that was around the corner by the salon. He half expects the women to be outside, murmuring and gossiping, but none were on the porch. He shakes his head as he climbs into the cart. Luckily, his grandma didn’t need help getting up into it, Livian’s arm would probably give out if he tried to pull her up in any way.

—

As they pull into their estate, Livian’s head hangs low. Very, very low. He didn’t even raise his head to see if his mother was on the porch waiting for him, and undoubtedly she probably is. As they stopped, he immediately gets out of the cart and turns to his grandma, offering his good arm for her to balance as she exits.

“I sent one of our workers ahead on Luna to inform the staff to prepare a bath for you. So, on you go. Bath, now,” she says rather gently, shooing him off towards the bathhouse. He nods and walks off toward the building, still a little unsteady on his feet. He bites his lip, staring down at his feet as he walked. He could feel someone’s eyes on him, and he ignored it because he knew who it was. It was his mother, looking at him for any hint as to how it went, hope probably laced in her heart.

He, however, keeps staring at the ground as he walks towards the bathhouse, not once lifting his eyes. His face was starting to throb from where it hit the ground, and something was definitely wrong with his arm. He couldn’t let his family know. He couldn’t stand to tell them that not only did he fail his one duty as an omega, but that he is how hurt because of it. Omegas with any type of scarring or injury on them are considered even weaker and feeble; a burden to their families, and of course it’s worse for male omegas. Livian bit his lip to keep from letting out any unwanted noises, at least out in public. He hurries to the bathhouse, holding his arm tight against his chest, praying that he looks like he just has his arms crossed and not cradling one.

He pushes open the door to the house, using his whole body of course. In the solitude of the enclosed room, he let out another choked sob, even if no tears were falling. His chest ached inside as he removed his clothes hastily, not caring where there landed, much less about folding them. He moves toward the large tub, exhaling a shaky breath as he steps in the hot bubbly water. He slowly moves all the way in, feeling his skin burn slightly at the open cuts finally being cleaned.

“Shit,” he breathes quietly to himself as he fully emerges into the bath. He sits there for a few moments, dipping underwater to douse his head. He gazes at his reflection in the glass, sulking when he sees the state of his face. Half of it was dirty and half of it was smudged with make up from the salon, even worse now that water had been run over it. With his good arm, he roughly scrubs at his face with a nearby washcloth, grimacing as the cloth absorbed the color from his face. When he looks to see if it was all gone in his reflection, he frowns at the sight of himself. Without the coverage of the makeup, his eyes are red and puffy, his lips chapped and his skin pink from scrubbing. He lets out a frustrated noise and sinks further into the water.

“Can’t do anything right,” he grumbles into the water, forming bubbles and little splashes. “Can’t even look right. That’s the easiest part.”

Livian was alone with his depressing thoughts for a bit longer before he heard a short knock on the door.

“Livian? You decent?” he recognized the voice. It was his only friend, Isabel. She was a beta, one of the servants that worked for his family. He forgot that his grandma said she was coming.  
“Yeah,” he responds, grabbing the soap and creating more bubbles around him. She steps inside, closing the door behind her with great care.

“Your grandma asked me to come to wash your hair,” she said, coming into view and kneeling on the ground above his head. She grabs the bottle of shampoo and lathers it up in her hands before he starts to gently knead her fingers through his long hair.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, leaning his head back against the ledge.

“So,” she begins. “Your grandma told me what happened. Don’t worry, no one else knows,” she says quickly, noticing when he tensed up. “The matchmaker is a horrid woman, don’t let her ruin your self-esteem over one morning,” Isabel tries to comfort him.

“Hurt my arm,” he slurs, closing his eyes.

“How? Did you tell your grandma?” she asks.

“She pushed me off the porch into the dirt,” he says, noting the way Isabel's hands hesitate for a moment. “And you know I can’t do that. ‘M too much of a burden already.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me. Do you want someone to look at it?” she asks, resuming her previous cleansing of his hair. He sighs and shrugs his shoulders weakly.

“Dunno. Maybe.” Isabel grabs a cup and pours water over his hair, careful to avoid his closed eyes.

“You know,” she starts, a hint of mischief and hope in her voice. “Farlan’s boss is a really good resource. She’s a beta, very energetic,” she says, but the tone in her voice indicates a question. Livian opens his eyes and looks up at Isabel.

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself,” he remarks. She laughs a bit.

“Trust me, you’ll know what I mean when you meet her. She’s also the army base’s primary doctor, so she’s straight forward and direct, badass looking, tad crazy. You know, usual military traits. Still, I’m a bit surprised she’s as peppy as she is, you know, being a military doctor and all that. She’s probably seen some serious shit,” Isabel finished. 

Livian hummed in response, settling his head back down on the ledge and closing his eyes once again. Isabel runs her fingers through his damp hair, creating circles and gentle strokes through the strands. It made Livian ache a bit, a fresh wave of grief washing over him from the previous events of the day. He yearns for this contact more than he should. He wants an alpha of his own, one to card their own hands through his hair and pamper him. Other mated omegas look so happy and content with their alphas, it’s almost disgusting. Yet, even as it repulses him, Livian can help but crave the same. He wants to feel that happiness.

He imagines Isabel’s hands as an alpha’s, and it somewhat appeases him. But he could never think of Isabel that way; they’re too close to one another, knowing each other from childhood. Plus, she’s mated to Farlan, happily, and Livian would never think to come between them. He whines in annoyance, sighing.

“I know, Livian,” she whispers gently. She grabs the cup and douses his hair one more time with water. “I know. You’ll find your alpha soon enough, and he’s going to be perfect. I know you; you won’t settle for a single hair out of place,” she teases, which earns her a small huff in approval from Livian. “He’s strong, Livian. He’s a good alpha, fair and just. He’s a good leader and he’ll treat you right. I just know it.” Livian can’t help the smile that plasters on his face. Just thinking about a person who may not even be real gives him happy jitters.

“You can’t possibly know that,” he challenges with a smile still on his face.

“It’s not important that I know it, it’s important that you know it.” she leans down and presses a faint kiss to the top of his head. “Have faith Livian. Fate is kind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are ALWAYS welcome! Especially any critiques you may have for me! If you want to get updated when I post a new chapter, please subscribe to this fic! I just found out that not everyone knows of this feature, it's super helpful for staying up to date. Please feel free to also subscribe to me as an author, it's always appreciated!! 
> 
> Love you guys!╰(*°▽°*)╯


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Ok so I think Levi may be a bit OOC in this chapter so just heads up)
> 
> Oooook so before you come at me with knives, my computer's power button broke and I had to send it back to the manufacturer to get it repaired, which took way longer than it was supposed to. And no, I don't have any other computer to work on because the desktops here at college are monitored and I am paranoid. Also, I have no friends to ask to borrow their computer because I get very scared when confronted with social situations :)
> 
> And midterms kicked my ass lol so
> 
> That being said, this chapter is not my favorite, but thats probably because I've reread it several times and I'm sick of seeing the words. Sadly, still no Eren. It's gonna be a while before we see him. I apparently like to torture myself and make you guys suffer. 
> 
> Gosh who knew rewriting an entire movie in your style and ship with added scenes to make it realistic and enjoyable and not childish takes so long
> 
> And there is a bit of an unconventional scene with Levi and his mom that I have never seen in a fic and I am still unsure about so don't @ me. I lowkey hate it but I also don't want to delete it, if you're up for it please give me feedback in the comments!

After his bath and pleasant talk with Isabel, Livian dresses. Well, Isabel mostly dresses him because of his arm. He heads inside towards the kitchen, remembering his grandma’s promise of rice earlier. He smells the rice cooking and hears his grandma humming and tapping her foot. He smiles a little, rubbing at his face before he steps inside.

  
“Livian, darling, is that you?” his grandma asks, still stirring the rice with a spoon.

  
“Yea,” he says, his voice coarse and scratchy. He holds his arms close around his torso. She turns and smiles at him, beckoning for him to come towards her. He does so, and she wraps her fragile arms around him.

  
“We still love you. You know that right?” she says quietly and tips her head to up kiss his cheek.

  
“I’m guessing you told mom?” he asks hesitantly, biting his lip. Her smile fades a bit and nods her head.

  
“I had to, sweetie,” she pats his chest before backing away and resuming her cooking. “Have some tea, dear.”

  
Livian walks to the countertop and picks up the kettle with his good arm, pouring a bit of tea into the small teacup. He swirls it around before taking a sip, just realizing how dehydrated he is as the liquid hit his tongue. He pours a little more into the cup before he grabs two plates from the cabinet, trying not to showcase his struggle. He silently hands them to his grandma.

  
“Thank you, dear,” she says, scooping up some rice onto the first plate. She hands it to Livian, and he goes to sit down. She follows a minute later, sitting down onto the soft pillows on the ground under the table.

  
“Where is she now?” he murmurs, spooning a mouthful of rice into his mouth, reveling in how good food tastes.

  
“She… she wanted to give you space, honey. She knows how important it was to you,” his grandma replies, sipping her tea with her head dipped down. Livian nods. They eat in silence for a bit, Livian not realizing how much his body was deprived of any sustenance once again. After a few minutes, his mouth decides to break the silence without asking him if it was okay or not.

  
“I will never pass for a perfect omegan bride,” he mumbles, staring down at his half-empty plate. His grandma didn’t say anything, but he could feel her eyes on him. He bore his gaze down into the rice, refusing to look up at her as if glaring and blaming the rice on his plate would solve all his problems. “I will never be the perfect son _because_ I’m an omega,”_ if I try to be myself, it will break their hearts_. “I… I don’t know who I am, I don’t recognize myself anymore, and I’m starting to question if I ever did.”_ I don’t know who I am. Who do I see in the mirror?_ “I want to be a son whose family can be proud of, and—and I—” he cuts himself off, taking a breath to slow his quickening heart. “I just want to look at myself in my reflection and just—just know who I am, because being an omegan bride _clearly_ isn’t it,” he says with a bitter laugh. He excepts tears to start falling because his chest was clenching painfully, but none came. His face felt like stone, even if he was rampaging with astray emotions within; everything out of order.

  
Livian falls silent after that. He taps his spoon gently on the side of the bowl, awaiting his grandma’s response. He doesn’t feel hungry anymore.

  
“You know that cherry blossom tree we have in the courtyard?” Livian whips around to see his mother standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes go wide and his heart starts pounding.

  
“Mom—”

  
“There are still a few late buds that haven’t bloomed yet,” his mom moves off the wall and walks over to Livian, her cane gently tapping against the wooden floor. “But when they do,” she reaches him, gently stroking his long hair, and he leans into the touch. “I bet they will be the most beautiful of them all.” She smiles down at him, and Livian felt a small weight lifted off his shoulders listening to her words. His mother bends down and presses a soft, delicate kiss onto his head, and Livian let out a breath he was unaware he was holding in. Her hand traveled from his head to his neck, gently rubbing her scent gland onto his. As she does this, she quietly creates a soothing crooning sound. It is uncommon for alpha parents to display such amounts of affection for their children, especially for older, unmated omegas.

  
The gesture left Livian making almost a pained noise, screwing his eyes shut and forcing himself not to nuzzle further into his mom’s arm. It’s been so long since she last comforted him like this, way before he presented as an omega. He must have been 6 or 7. This gesture done by a parent is an action of love and nurture, letting the child know that they have a protector. Livian didn’t know he was truly missing any of these things, and this reassurance his mother was giving him just reminded him of how empty he really feels; much he desired a mate.

  
“Livian, you needn’t worry darling. Everything will work out just as fate intends,” she slowly pulls away, and Livian lets go of her hand, not realizing when he had grasped it. He nods, a small grateful smile gracing his features.

  
“Thank you, mom,” Livian whispers to her, eyes glistening with appreciation. She smiles down at him once more before turning to leave. He stares at the door after her departure, a new sense of belonging swelling inside him. But even so, his heart couldn’t help but clench at nothingness. He did not know it was possible to mourn for something that does not exist yet. In some part of him, some imaginative and juvenile part wondered if his future alpha was thinking about him just then. Which is completely ridiculous, he knows that. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t experiencing his longing alone.

  
“Feel better?” Livian startles at the soft and reassuring voice of his grandma. He shakes this feeling off and nods. She smiles and sips her tea with a knowing look on her face. Whether it be because of the moment he had with his mom, or the sudden imaginary, faint connection to an alpha, he didn’t know.

  
“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Livian turns back towards his rice and tea. He resumes eating, and even if it has gone a little cold, it’s the best meal he’s had in a very long time.

  
—

  
Levi looks over to Isabel nervously as they walked down the street. He has his Paracel over his shoulder and his long hair down to cover his face. He’s never been comfortable with being out in public, much less now because of what happened yesterday.

  
“Isabel, I don’t like this,” Livian protests. “I can feel people looking.”

  
“No, they aren’t actually. You are just paranoid and jittery. There are barely any people out right now,” she responds, lightly patting his upper back in reassurance. “Stop complaining, you do want to fix your arm, do you not?” Livian huffs, frowning at her. “Exactly. So, shut up,” she demands.

  
They walked along the road in silence for a bit, a light breeze rustling the nearby leaves from trees. Their robes flowed gently; their hair waving softly. And Livian’s thoughts drifted once again to the imaginary alpha it has attached itself to.”

  
“Isabel,” he asks quietly.

  
“Yeah?”

  
“I keep…” he pauses, trying to carefully decipher what his next words are. He takes a breath and continues. “I keep… _wanting_ an alpha. I keep _feeling_ an alpha. Is that normal? I couldn’t even explain to you who he is or what he looks like just that…” he trails off, suddenly extremely unsure of himself.

  
“Just that he’s perfect?” Isabel finishes for him with a teasing smile. Livian blushes a bit and nods. “You’re coming of age, Livian. Your body aches for its pair. I still felt that before I met Farlan, and I’m a beta. It must be so much stronger as an omega.” Isabel stops them from walking and looks at Livian’s blushing face. “He’s been on your mind for a while huh?”

  
“You could say that,” Livian laughs nervously, like a child whose hand was caught in the cookie jar.

  
“Oh, Livian, sweetie that’s adorable!” Isabel squeals, which in turn makes Livian only blush harder.

  
“Okay, okay, enough Izzy!” Livian pleads with a horrified expression on his face, glaring at her.

  
“Does your grandma know?”

  
“Honestly, probably. You know how she’s freaky with that type of stuff. I don’t think mom knows though. I haven’t told her,” Livian says, gently rubbing at his wounded arm which seems to ache more now that he is focusing more on it because he is really uncomfortable in this conversation. He starts to walk again, and Isabel follows suit.

  
“I think you should share this with Farlan’s boss, Hanji. She may seem a bit off her rocker at first, but she is actually very helpful and understanding.”

  
“Yeah, maybe,” Livian says hesitantly, his gaze drifting away from Isabel’s and towards the road ahead. He’s not quite sure how he feels about sharing his personal shit with strangers, even if they’re a beta, who are characteristically less biased than the other two orientations. Isabel gives him an apologetic smile, seemingly reading his thoughts. Livian tries to distract himself from the ever-growing swarm of flutters in his stomach by observing his surroundings. They were a bit out of town now, no cluster of houses or buildings. Grass graced the landscape, as well as some other brush. The weather was warm, and the light breeze made it nice. The sky was cloudless and bright blue. This pleasant day seemed to almost be an apology for yesterday’s events.

  
“Ah, there it is!” Isabel exclaims, grasping Livian’s shoulder, not noticing when he winces and pointed to a building behind some trees. “That’s the place.”

  
“Cool?” Livian responds tentatively, his nerves shooting up again.

  
“Don’t make that face! You’ll be fine I swear, if you get uncomfortable, we can leave, but remember,” Isabel looks at him seriously. “She’s the only one who can treat you in secrecy and isn’t completely sketchy. You know I wouldn’t let Farlan work for her if otherwise.”

  
“I know, I know,” Livian sighs.

  
“Good.” Isabel pushes him towards the building, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she could feel his anxiety. It looks clean and crisp for being out of town and under a grove of trees. But it is a clinic so presumably, it would be neat. It had a light-colored wood anterior with faded red tile on the roof. It was a decent size, the army must pay her good money, which is hard for a beta female.

  
Beta females were not as respected as alpha females but were still held higher than omegas. Beta males were higher than beta females of course but lower than alpha females. The chain of hierarchy seemed to benefit everyone but him. Most omega females, of the few he’s met, apparently don’t mind being at the bottom because that means they didn’t have to provide for themselves, their alphas would do that for them.

  
But Livian doesn’t want to be held like a trophy to some alpha. He wants to be special, someone that can’t be replaced. He wants to stand by his alpha’s side in the face of adversity or threat, not cower behind him. This new vow he just formed gave him a new sense of confidence, that if he wants to stand by his future alpha, he can handle a quick visit to the clinic.

  
He’s always been somewhat independent for an omega, with his mom being an alpha and his grandma being a beta. He was deprived of any reliance formed upon an omega or even beta parent. He, of course, doesn’t blame his family for that, they could have never foreseen the certain circumstances that led them to where they are now. And that’s never bothered him before. Until he started fantasizing about his mystery alpha. He wants to lean on someone, but also have them lean back onto him. He wants to be adored and loved by his alpha, but that’s not all he wants out of a relationship.

  
“Livian?” He jumps and twists his head around to face Isabel, who has a knowing smile on her face. “You’re doing it again. I can smell it,” she teases.

  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. And don’t smell me that’s gross,” he huffs as he proceeds to walk up the steps into the clinic. He hears Isabel giggle behind him. she knocks on the open door  
“Isabel?” a voice calls out from behind a corner. “Is that you? Are you with Livian?”

  
“Yes Farlan!” she responds happily. He comes into view with a wide smile on his face.

  
“Hi, Livian! It’s nice to see you again,” Farlan gives him a little wave while Isabel attaches herself to his side, giving him a hug that she probably needed after sensing all Livian’s anxiety about mates.  
“Dr. Zoe will be out with you in a minute, she’s readying a space for an omega such as yourself to be comfortable, since most of her clients are in fact from the military,” Farlan informs, giving his wrist a quick swipe over Isabel’s neck in a sign of affection. Livian’s chest clenches without permission. He’s not jealous of Farlan, he just envies what they have together.

  
A loud clank emitted from behind them along with some maniacal laughter. Livian’s face contorted into a concerned expression. Farlan sighs and extracts himself from Isabel.

  
“I should go check on her, poor Moblit sometimes can’t control her,” he walks back into the hallway and stopped. “Oh, I forgot! Feel free to nibble at the snacks on the counter, and have a seat, she’ll be out in a minute,” he gestures to the seats that were outside on the back porch under a willow tree. Isabel nods and leads Livian outside and sat him down, taking a seat across from him.

  
“Relax Livian,” Isabel reassures him, she must have noticed his tense stature. “She isn’t the matchmaker. In fact, she’s probably the exact opposite. She won’t reject you for being a male omega, you’re most likely the first one she’s seen. She’ll probably gush over you and ask you questions. She’s a scientist as well, so she loves learning about new things. And you’re a new thing to her.” Isabel reaches across and rubs his knee gently. “She’s going to accept you, it’s time you accept yourself.”

  
Livian looks at her with an indiscernible expression. He can’t decide what emotion he feels after hearing that. For one, he’s relieved on some level that she won’t reject him for being an omega, but he’s also uneasy about this weird voodoo-scientist energy she will be ejecting onto him. He’s never had a beta, let alone a scientist, poking and prodding at him. Lastly, he’s afraid of her last remark. He fears he will never be able to accept himself. He’s been taught his whole life that he’s unnatural, that he will never be a true part of anything. Not by his family of course, but by society. He hears what they talk about in the town.

  
“I hope you’re right,” Livian says truthfully. Isabel gives him a confident smile.

  
“Are you Livian?” a squealing voice suddenly appears from behind them and they both jump. For being as loud as she was earlier, she can be quite quiet when clearly sneaking up on people.

  
“Yeah,” Livian responds in a small voice, standing up and extending his good hand towards her, which she promptly and quite enthusiastically shakes and steps forward quite close to Livian’s personal space.

  
“I’m so excited to finally meet you! I’ve never met a male omega before, I am very much looking forward to…” she trailed off and grinned. But it wasn’t a grin that sated Livian’s nerves. “Studying you,” she finished with a giggle and a glint in her eye. Livian shrunk in a bit on himself, looking to Isabel desperately for aid as to how to respond to a statement like that. She looks back at him with equal confusion and shrugs.

  
“Ah, Hanji, don’t scare him,” a gentle voice announced behind Hanji, and its short brown-haired owner soon appeared. He smells of beta, but his features were soft, even for his orientation. He looks young too.

  
“Don’t mind her, she gets like this but she’s harmless. Hi, I’m Moblit by the way,” the beta smiles and gave Livian a smile and a wave while trying to coax Hanji away from her proximity to Livian.  
“Nice to meet you,” Livian says, silently grateful that he didn’t try to shake hands, he’s a bit afraid that his hands and trembling.

  
“I’m Hanji’s mate, as well as her assistant, so trust me when I say that she means well and has the _ability_ to be professional. She just… sometimes has a hard time keeping herself in check around new people.” Even though Livian doesn’t know this beta, his words put Livian at ease more so than Isabel’s reassurances. Hanji lets herself be pulled away, a grin still plastered on her face.

  
Livian nods, breathing out slowly. “So, I guess we should get this over with?” Hanji was about to respond until a voice echoed from the hall.

  
“And remember, Hanji,” it was Farlan’s voice. “He’s here to get his arm checked out, he’s not a test subject!” Livian lets out a small laugh at that, feeling his shoulders release some tension.

  
“Right, of course,” Hanji says, trying to reign herself back in it seems. She clears her throat, and the grin on her face was less maniacal and more professional and comforting.

  
“Right this way. Are you comfortable with this being a private meeting?” she asks, her eyes drifting to Isabel.

  
“Yes, of course,” Livian says, looking back towards Isabel who had a big smile and two thumbs up.

  
“You’ll be fine!” she reassures him. _Maybe_, he thinks.

  
Hanji waves for him to follow her down the hallway, one that was very well decorated at that. Beautiful paintings of landscapes decorated the walls and flowers of which he’s never seen before were displayed in vases on tables. They pass a few rooms, most of which tickle Livian’s nose of disinfectant. But he stops at one when an intriguing smell catches his attention. It smells… alluring to say the least. Musky and earthy like cedar but spicy like cinnamon and ginger, and yet clean like citrus. He had never experienced this sensation before. Hanji notices his abrupt stop and turns to face him.

“Oh, sorry, must have not be as thoroughly cleaned as I thought it was. An alpha was here before you came. He needed a few extra supplies like bandages and medical pastes. He’s from the army,” she pauses and smirks when she observes Livian still looking into the room. “He’s a high-ranking officer, could be called out to battle at any moment,” and his body jolts at her words, a feeling that was simply not fair. “He’s also an unmated one at that,” Livian whirls his head around to look at her, unsure of what to say about that. It’s not like he’s never smelled unmated alphas before, he has. Just… not recently. Almost everyone in the town is mated.

  
“… Oh,” is the only response Livian could think to reply with. He felt his face flush involuntarily but kept his expression as stoic as he could. Hanji, still smirking, turns around and walks along the corridor. Much to Livian’s dismay, he deeply inhales the intriguing scent once more before reluctantly following Hanji.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok yeah, so it sucked, I know.
> 
> But feedback is always appreciated! Especially if anyone has any critiques at all please lmk! I will hopefully get back into the swing of writing, things here at school seemed to have calmed down a bit.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small appearance from our favorite Eren. Levi's appointment with Dr. Hanji.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okkkkkk my bad. i could give you guys a reason why i haven't updated in god knows how long, but ill save you my excuses. but eren is here!
> 
> also i haven't quite figured out how to write hanji yet, so she may be a bit out of character in a few scenes. idk
> 
> dont @ me i dont like this chapter but its not fair to keep y'all waiting

“Please, have a seat,” Dr. Hanji says to Livian, noticing his distracted expression. She made a small note of that in her notepad on her clipboard. “Since you’re here, we may as well do a complete health examination. For one, I have never had the chance to observe a male omega up close,” she leaned in and Livian leaned back, finally focusing all of his attention on her and looking at her with a concerned expression.

“You’re not going to stick something up my ass, are you?” Dr. Hanji bursts out laughing, maniacally.

“That won’t be needed for today. Unless you want me to?” She winked at him and Livian was seriously considering walking out of here and living with a distorted limb for the rest of his life. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding. Bonded, remember?” Even as Livian could clearly see she was pointing at her neck; it still took him a few seconds to realize she was talking about herself. His goddamned mind was still stuck on that alpha whom he’s never met and only smelled briefly. God, that feeling is so foreign.

“Yes, yes of course,” Livian breathed, chest tightening a bit for a reason he did not know. “So, after you fix my arm, what do you have in mind?” Livian asked, desperately trying to shift the subject. Dr. Hanji suddenly lost her playful expression as she leaned against her desk.

“Well, I heard you’re unmated yes?” Livian nodded. “I will be conducting some routine physical exams, none too grueling. Taking some samples from your scent glands, checking your vitals, simple things like that.” Dr. Hanji turned around and set her clipboard on her desk, grabbing a small pillow from her seat and sliding gloves onto her hands. She handed the pillow to Livian and he looked at her, confused.

“Just hold onto it, you may need it. Does it hurt?” she gestured to his arm, which he was still holding onto close to his chest.

“Like a bitch,” he mumbles without thinking, immediately widening his eyes and snapping his mouth shut. “Sorry! I shouldn’t cuss in front of a professional—no I shouldn’t cuss at all—that’s, that’s improper, oh shit—no,” Livian flailed.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Dr. Hanji laughed and shook her head. “I won’t judge you. I’m a military doctor, remember? If you don’t cuss in the military, you’re considered abnormal.” She leans in front of him, gently feeling his arm. “How did this happen?”

“I fell…” he mumbles, adverting his eyes from her gaze.

“Fell? Or pushed?” Dr. Hanji asks, feeling gently around his elbow. He winces.

“I was… _pushed_ down the stairs and onto the ground outside.

“By whom?” Livian grit his teeth and fights the flush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks.

“The matchmaker,” Livian admits after a few moments, wanting to shrink into the chair.

“That crazy old omega? The one who tells perfectly fine girls that they’re too fat when her fatass can barely fit through her damn door?” Dr. Hanji frowns and her hands still. “She’s the reason why so many poor omegas have body image issues. It’s people like her who are backtracking society.” Livian, shocked, didn’t know how to respond to that. In all honesty, he was surprised. He didn’t know that you could say stuff like that. He stayed silent, letting her words sink in. He only snapped out of his daze when she pressed down a bit too firmly on his joint. He jolts back and looked at her a bit offendedly.

“Ah, there it is. You have something we call a dislocated elbow. Quick fix, though,” she adjusted her stance next to him. “Grab the pillow,” she said and Livian turned to grab it and once he had it in his hand, she twisted and shoved his arm into him. Livian yelled in pain, his nails digging into the pillow, unprepared for the action.

“You could have warned me!” He shouts at her accusingly. “I wasn’t ready!”

“That’s the point!” Dr. Hanji says with an apologetic grin. “When people expect the joint to be reset, they tense up and it’s harder to ease the joint in properly,” she explains, releasing his arm.

Livian huffed and held his arm close to his chest. “Still hurt…” he grumbles.

“But it feels better now yeah?” Dr. Hanji looked at him with a sly expression. Livian looked away. “So now that that’s out of the way, in all seriousness, I would like to ask you a few questions. Some are basic procedures, but some are for my research purposes. I have never met a male omega...” Dr. Hanji trails off. “Would you still be comfortable with that?”

Livian took a moment to consider before he nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s fine I guess.”

“Excellent!” Dr. Hanji stood up and picked up her clipboard, rounding her desk and sitting down.

“First, we’ll start with your history. Have you ever consumed alcohol?”

Livian made a weird face. “No, it’s improper for an omega to have alcohol. Don’t you know that?”

Dr. Hanji laughs in response to Livian’s snarky comment. “Yes, these might seem basic and unnecessary, but I still have to ask them. It would be against my policy to write down an answer without actually consulting the patient. These are the questions I ask all my clients. alphas and betas alike. It’s just procedure.”

“Oh,” Livian said unsure of what to say next.

“And,” Dr. Hanji said. “Before we continue, you must know that this is a safe space. Everything that is said in here is confidential and stays between us unless you bring up conflicts of self-inflicted injury or harm to others.”

“Self—harm others, what? Why would—”

“Military doctor, remember?” Dr. Hanji said with a smile that held no joy and tapped her finger to a faint scar above her eye. “Soldiers see the worst, and it haunts them. Usually, the horrors follow them from the battlefield. There is no medical term for it yet, but I’ve seen what it does to men—good men. Mental scars exist too; just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not real.” Livian looks at her with a bewildered expression. He has never even seen a soldier before, much less one after a battle. Aside from his mother, a disabled veteran, he’s never really been faced with what war does to people.

“…. Huh.” Livian had never considered the mentally that soldiers must contain. Though, he’s never faced any type of violence. “I never… thought about that. I mean I have never actually met anyone that used to be a soldier besides my mother.” Dr. Hanji made a face that looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but she refrained.

“So, moving on. What is your diet like?”

“Just whatever my grandma is making—or having the servant make usually. Rice is almost present at every meal, as is tea. Sometimes we’ll have meat and veggies from the garden,” Livian says, thankful for the change of topic.

“Would you consider your exercise like?”

“Well,” Livian thought for a moment. “I walk around the property and out to a lot of places, but I do ride my horse often. At least four times a week into town mostly.”

“You mentioned your mother was a veteran, yes?” Livian nodded. “Has anyone else in your family been involved in a war?”

“Not anyone alive that I know of…” Livian trailed off. “I know that we were a family of great warriors, but my mother has never gone into too much detail. Says that it’s not a topic an omega should concern themselves with.”

“Right…” Dr. Hanji wrote a few things down onto her paper. “Have you ever been with sexual partners?”

Livian’s face immediately went red. He so shocked to hear that, especially so casually—

“I’ll take that as a no?” Dr. Hanji snickered a bit. “Sorry, I’m around alphas and betas all the time. And especially the ones in the military are a bit sex-crazed. The sheer number of products I have invented to rid my belongings with their scents is astonishing,” she laughs, and Livian nods in understanding slowly.

“Yeah, I haven’t been with anyone… sexually,” Livian starts, a look of disgust crosses his face. “In all honesty, I mean I may just not understand it, but I think it’s gross?” He says hesitantly. “I mean, everyone tells you that once you meant _that someone_, it’ll be different…” he trails off.

“Have you met that person?” Dr. Hanji asks, raising her eyebrow curiously.

“No…” Livian answers, unsure of himself. “I keep feeling this… thing though, whenever I talk about this stuff. Like,” Livian paused and tries to form the feeling in words. “It’s like I’m not alone in that longing? Like someone else is thinking about me while I’m thinking about them? But I don’t even know who it is? And it scares me a little. I don’t know if I’m prepared for someone to just, need me. The more the feeling of want intensifies, the more I want to run away from it.”

“Interesting…” Dr. Hanji tipped her head back. “Very, very interesting,” she repeats, seemingly lost in thought. “Well!” she suddenly clapped her hands together after a few moments. “I still have more medical questions to ask for today, but if you wouldn’t mind, can you come in for another session? Just to talk about this… feeling that you’ve been having?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Great! Now, what’s your heat cycle like?”

—

“Soooo,” Isabel bounces out of her chair and walks up to Livian. “How’d it go?”

“Fine, actually,” Livian shrugs. “In a weird way, I sorta like her. She’s refreshing,” Livian said and looks back at Dr. Hanji. “Thank you, for my arm obviously, but also for just… talking.”

“You’re welcome, my dear! Anytime!” Dr. Hanji says, waving at him. “You still okay to come in in two days?”

“Yeah,” Livian nodded, eyeing Isabel’s smug expression. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing at all! My payment is being able to learn from you my dear specimen!” Dr. Hanji exclaims, way too excited.

Livian laughs a bit. “Ok, see you in a few days.”

Livian and Isabel walk out of the building together, and it wasn’t long before Isabel exploded with questions. “What did you talk about? What was wrong with your arm? Is it already fixed? What did she do to it? Why are you going back? Did you like her? Yes? I knew you’d like her!”

“Woah, Woah, slow down!” Livian said, looking at the beta oddly. “Firstly, what we talked about is confidential. Don’t look at me like that, there are some things I would rather not express with my best friend,” Livian defended himself after he saw her fake hurt expression. “Second, I just had a dislocated joint, and she put it back.”

“Ohhh,” Isabel breathed. “Is that what that yell was from? I assumed it was, but I didn’t want to barge in and possibly startle you guys.”

“Yea, it hurt a lot and she didn’t warn me,” Livian said and rolled his eyes. “But it does feel better though, so at least that is out of the way. And,” Livian continued before she could ask again. “I am going back because she wants… more information on male omegas. She noted the obvious differences between me and female omegas, but she wants more for her research. Which I said was fine, because it feels… good? At least to get some things off my chest. Things I would normally _not_ talk about with my best friend,” Livian said sternly, predicting Isabel’s protest.

“Yeah, I know that, but make sure you know that you can always talk to me, right?”

“I know. But I’m not quite there yet. It feels better to talk about it with someone who _hasn’t_ known me my entire life,” Livian teased. They were nearing the town again, and Livian decided to put up his parasol.

“Well, do you want me to go with you when you go back?” Isabel asks.

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Plus, you can’t skip work to ditch with me more than once a week,” Livian grinned at her, bumping her shoulder with his own.

“I suppose so…”

—

Earlier that day

“Hanji!” booms a voice throughout the small lobby. “Connie tried to take food from Sasha this morning.”

“Oh shit! I’m coming, hold on,” responded the female beta, followed by some clanking. “That stupid beta, when will he learn that when it comes to food, Sasha always wins?” Hanji found what she was looking for, some medical tap and wrap, along with some herb paste. “Ah, can you come here? Just down the hall and to the right.” Footsteps tapped gently against the floor and a handsome military alpha that regularly attended her clinic rounded the door frame. Eren Jaeger.

“I keep telling him, he’s going to get his hand bit off one of these days,” Eren laughed, walking in through the door all the way to help Hanji wrap the items in a bag.

“Hey… weird question,” Hanji poked at his shoulder with a maniac grin.

“Oh no, no no no, I am not letting you near my hair or scent glands or clothes for that matter!” Eren backed away with a small playful look on his face, one hand raised between them. “I am done being your lab rat. Just because I have a stronger scent than most of the other alphas in the military does _not_ make me your lab rat!”

“Oh, come on!” Hanji exasperated, slumping down. “You are such a drama queen; I haven’t hurt you _that_ bad!”

“I am not taking any chances!”

“I’m not asking much!” Hanji stepped towards Eren very quickly, flailing her hands out towards him. “I just want you to scent this room!”

“What—why in the world, are you going to do something weird with it?” Eren looked at her with a wary look in his eye.

“No, of course not!” Hanji said, almost offendedly, like that wasn’t something she could very well—and has attempted—to do. “I have an unmated omega coming in here in a bit, this one is different! I just want to catalog the reaction!”

“But my scent is all over the place, I waited out in the lobby for like three minutes! Also, that’s mean,” Eren accuses her. “Using me as bait to overwhelm a little omega. I thought you were above that, Hanji.”

“No no no, I would never do that!” Hanji rolled her eyes and placed her hands on Eren’s shoulders. “Please?” she begs. “I won’t be meeting with him in this room, one farther down. I’m told that he reacts differently to different situations than other female omegas.

“He?” Eren inquires, hesitantly turning over his wrists

“Yes, he. That’s all I can let you know about him; you know with patient confidentiality and everything,” Hanji explained, taking swabs off his wrists.

“I feel like using my scent to… experiment on him still isn’t good.”

“Oh—! Stop twisting my words you stupid gorgeous dumb alpha. He’ll be fine. Now, get out.” Hanji waves at him. Eren rolls his eyes but leaves anyway, remembering the somewhat critical condition Connie was in when Eren left.

“See ya, you crazy beta,” Eren shouts behind him, but hesitates near the entrance. He wanted to mention this odd sensation that he has been feeling lately, but he didn’t want any more poking and prodding. Plus, she looked like she was already too excited about this new omega she’d be meeting. Besides, he not even sure how he would explain it.

“Hey, Hanji?’ his mouth betrayed him. “I have a question.” He turned around and walked back towards the hallway door.

“Yes? She popped her head out.

“What does it mean if I… if I feel another person? Like, mentally? Sorta?” Eren asks uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck and looking to the side.

Hanji walks towards him. “Well, what is the sensation?” she asked, her tone serious. That was never good.

“Well… I mean it’s not there all the time, but sometimes during the day, I’ll just get the sudden feeling that someone is like, next to me? But it’s just… in my head I supposed?” Eren fumbles over his words, making an uncomfortable face. Being in the military, it’s hard to talk about yourself, especially any concerns. He learned that the hard way. “Like, when someone is staring at me, I can sense that. And this is similar, but it’s more like… someone is thinking of me? And then, in turn, I think about them? But that’s what I don’t understand because I haven’t met anyone new recently.”

“I see…” Hanji had a distant expression on her face. “Do you think this may be your body telling you that it wants a mate?” she asked carefully. This was a sensitive topic for him, he’s always had trouble connecting with betas or even omegas in that way.

“I suppose that could be an explanation,” Eren said unsteadily, not liking the answer.

“I mean, you are 20. By this time in their life, many… people have already courted. And I know it’s different because you’re an alpha of the military,” Eren always felt like he was a faulty alpha in a sense. After all, he hasn’t connected well with any omegas. “Just, keep an open mind? Okay?” Hanji asked gently.

“Yeah, of course. Thanks,” Eren turned away quickly, leaving the building much quicker than need be. He mounts his horse, medicine in hand, and rides to the camp.

—

Hanji opens the file of Livian that had a bit of information that Farlan provided.

_Name: Livian Ackan_

_Known Relatives: Son of General Kuckel Ackan, unknown other relatives_

_Sex: Male_

_Orientation: Omega_

_Age: 17 years_

_Birthdate: unknown_

_Skills: unknown_

_Relationship Status: Unmated_

_Sex Life: unknown_

_Friends: Isabel Mongla; mated beta, unknown others_

_Education: Unknown_

It seemed that not many people even knew he existed. And the poor thing, being given a girl’s name. He may be an omega but he’s not a female. Hanji frowned at the paper, sighing in frustration. It looks like not many have given this little omega the time of day, besides Farlan’s mate.

Hanji knew the stereotypes that revolve around male omegas. The type of reputation that they bring to the family. How they’re rarely fertile, and most looked upon as sex things instead of the beautiful creatures that they are. It’s not like they had any say as to what they presented as.

Hanji walked down the hall towards her office, setting the file down onto her desk. As she walked back into the room with the swabs from Eren’s neck, she had to do a double-take.

“God damn… that is one fucking strong alpha,” she laughed to herself, trying to calm down her heart rate. She knew Eren, has for a long time; knew that he would never hurt anyone unintentionally. Yet his scent always surprised her when her focus wasn’t entirely on it. It was so… dominant. When Eren started to become stronger after joining the ranks as a cadet, she would have to force herself not to avert her gaze and tilt her neck in submission. And she’s been a military doctor for a long time, so she’s used to alphas’ excited hormones. But Eren… that boy he something else.

She shook herself and walked in, grabbing the samples. She ran the samples over the doorframe and on the nearest table. She closed the window, not wanting the scent to get swept away in the wrong direction.

And now she waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok yes i know its really bad but i dont want to rewrite it so this is what yall got.
> 
> if anyone has any critiques (or compliments idk how or why but) ill be glad to see them!
> 
> Also, if anyone is interested, I’ve made several accounts for my writing and art!   
https://linktr.ee/animatedanomaly


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